What I've been up to

So, I realize my last post was in March, and I apologize about that.

To see what I've been up to, please click here.

Dude looks like a lady

So, a few coworkers of mine and I went to Berkeley to see Watchmen. The movie was so-so, but there was something that was funny to me on the way out.

We went into the Embarcadero station to catch BART up to Berkeley, and as we were walking, we passed a guy with a mustache, black jacket, white shirt, a pleated, plaid skirt that went mid-thigh, shaven legs and high heels. What was that again? Yeah. He rocked the high heels and was moving around really smoothly. Apparently, this wasn't his first rodeo.

It really is funny what you see when you get out of the hotel...

Telegraph Hill, I conquer you

This weekend, Julie came into San Francisco to visit, while I stayed put for a weekend. A good weekend - very relaxing, met up with some friends for dinner on Saturday, and a full weekend of doing things we wanted to do on our own time (although we missed the Anchor Steam brewery, which I realized this morning). Anyway, this morning, I dropped her off at the airport and I went to change hotels.


I got to my room, and this is the view I saw out my window (literally).

So, since it teased my for the early part of the afternoon, I decided to ascend the summit and go up Coit Tower. Before I got there, however, as I was walking up the very steep Telegraph Hill, I ran into a couple that were taking pictures with the TransAmerica building presumably in the background. The wrinkle, here, is that the redhead girl was completely naked...I mean nothing was on. Nothing. Those crazy "artists"....

Anyway, when I got up to the Tower, I paid my $5 and was presented with a perfect view.


It kind of reminded me of Sao Paulo...except Sao Paulo is WAY more expansive and consistently packed on top of everything all over.

It was a good little sightseeing trip that was just a few blocks away (and gave a perfect view of all things San Francisco - Financial District, Chinatown, Fisherman's Wharf, Golden Gate, Nob Hill, etc.).

Two other things I saw on the way back to my hotel - the birthplace of the Salvation Army-West Coast, and the intersection of Broadway and Montgomery. Nothing real interesting, except this Broadway seems to be lagging behind New York's Broadway - circa 1990. I think I spotted about 5 strip clubs in about 2 linear blocks.

I am a lot to deal with

So, I have to share a story with those that still may be reading or checking in. My girlfriend, Julie, is the best there is...nothing more to it than that. I don't typically like to write about those in my life (work, personal, or otherwise), but I figured this one deserves a HUGE shout out.

You see...last night, we had Italian night at Julie's sister's house. We had a great time with good friends and TONS of good food (and spirits) from Jill and Andy. But, then, somehow, shots got to be passed around. Lemoncello and Mystique or something - it was blue, that's all I know. Anyway, I proceeded to get plastered. Apparently, I hadn't been this drunk around Julie since we've been dating.

On the way back home, while sober Julie was driving, I threw up out the window of the car. It left an unsightly frozen red drizzle (I was drinking red wine) on the door overnight, but lest I get sidetracked, I'll just continue. We get home (and based on the retelling of this since I don't really have recollection of what happened), I went into the bathroom, grabbed some kleenex because of my cold, then went to the couch and passed out instantly.

And, here comes the best part: Julie was so concerned that she didn't sleep in bed at all - she slept on the couch next to mine the entire night. And, I use "slept" loosely. She was concerned, so she listened for my breathing and generally made sure I was okay. SO incredibly sweet, I can't get over it. I was fine (and sleeping very well), but because she was concerned, she only got a couple hours of sleep. She's incredible - I love her so much and I know that I am very, very lucky.

Greatest. Site. Ever.

Okay, so greatest site I saw today. And, I have it on good authority that these are real eavesdroppings in an office/public place.

http://www.overheardintheoffice.com/

What shall we do?

I know, I've been sporadic, and maybe that's an understatement. I've been busy, what can I say? What with work, and the holidays and Brazil (and, yes, it rocked), I've been too busy for this interweb stuff.

Anyway - a quick story for you this warm afternoon from San Francisco.

I came back to San Francisco this weekend after 2 weeks in the beautiful country of Brazil (photos, etc on my Facebook). Brazil was sunny, warm and everything I had hoped it to be. Maybe I could have withstood more of a tan, but I am very happy nonetheless. Beautiful beach, wonderful people, perfect New Year's, and to top it all off, Julie and I got upgraded to Business class on the way back. And, yes, it matters....I can't say enough about laying nearly flat with a comforter and other niceties, instead of a short blanket and a rare sighting of flight attendants to receive water when you are incredibly dehydrated.

Anyway, when I was at the gate waiting as they were announcing the boarding of my Northwest flight, I heard a woman next to me, in near panic, "How do we know when to board? There isn't a Zone number on my ticket." First off, how do you survive in the world, ma'am? Secondly, this is what you do if there isn't a Zone number (which, for all but two or three airlines, there isn't): You listen to the announcement and you look at the seat number for which you are holding a ticket. You know, like they have always done - even before your precious Zone numbers began appearing. Stupid is as stupid does, so her husband went up to the counter find out the answer to this very complex problem. Sigh.

Then, as we were boarding, I heard another guy say, "Where is seat A?" I told him it was on the window, and he asked me (grumpily) how I knew. I told him the assignments are above the seats. "Where?!" he asked. I then physically tapped the overhead to point out where the seat assignments were and always have been. And, the sad thing is that this wasn't his first rodeo. This much was clear because he had a pillow no one except air travellers use - you know the one...the U-shaped pillow. Double sigh.

How did two weeks in South America make air travellers even dimmer than I thought possible?

Oh, and since jetting off to Brazil and chilling in an awesome beach condo wasn't enough to qwell one's desires, Julie and I are making plans to spend two weeks in a villa in Italy (specifically, Capri) in July. Ahhh...it's good to know people.

I think it happened for the very first time

I have been traveling for many years now, and in a short 7 years have racked up 800,000 miles on Northwest alone, (and, AND, I became Platinum this past Sunday. I have rewarded myself with loneliness and a self-congratulatory pat on the back). But I don't think I've noticed what happened on my flight back to San Francisco on Sunday.

I flew with a woman twice in one week. What was even more memorable is that her hair was exactly the same as it was on Friday. This is no mistakable hair either. She had it completely curled and set up on the top of her head, complete with the necessary lacquer to keep it up there. And it never. moves. ever. Remarkable...just remarkable.

This is the best you could do?

So, I was looking at the BART schedule to get to the airport tonight, since I have a little extra time on my hands (thank god for red eyes...woo hoo!), and this is the picture that greets everyone that visits their site. Really? The best they could do is someone with a bike helmet and brown stained teeth?

Hey. Chatty Cathy...

I was talking with my girlfriend, Julie, last night about her recent flight experience. She had what I have always hated: a Chatty Cathy next to her. She first began her little conversation with the guy, but after she had her fill, she dove into a book. At this point, the Cathy struck up a conversation with the person to the other side of them. To my point - what is so fucking important that you must talk to someone on a plane? Is it anxiety? Is it boredom? And, let's be clear, if you are bored, then I'll give you MY book to read if it'll help.

Now, typically, I dive into a magazine, book, or feign sleep immediately when I'm on a plane, but others do not. Those that do not run the increased risk that they will fall victim to these Cathys. Why do people you will never see again try to strike up conversation that is so benign and irrelevant? "Hi, where're you going? What do you do? What're you reading? What are you listening to?" And the most dreaded of all conversations on the plane? "Who do you think should win the election?" Whoa....I hardly talk politics with my loved ones, let alone strangers. I don't know if you're cool, let alone a fundamentalist freak that is two seconds away from cutting me because of my opinions.

C'mon people....not many want to be on a plane in the first place - they just want to get to the place they're going. Let's just all agree - if you are talking to someone that very clearly doesn't want to engage (like me), Shut It.

San Francisco - Early observations

I've been in San Francisco for about three weeks or so, and I've noticed a couple things about this city, and I guess the Financial District in particular. It is ridiculously clean. Sure, some gutters smell like garbage, but the sidewalks and streets themselves are remarkably clean.

A small sample of this is that each morning, they wash the sidwalks so garbage goes down a drain. But the REAL sign of cleanliness? When workers sweep the sidewalk so it's free of leaves. That's right - that happens here.

Much ado about something

It gives me great pleasure when people ask me to keep writing. I have heard from many (including my girlfriend) that sometimes my blog posts get a little boring. But, I have also heard from several (including my friends and girlfriend) that it's time to get back on the horse to keep writing.

Yesterday was a good example of what should be written about. Some of you may know that I am currently on a project in San Francisco. The city is one of the greatest I have had the privelege to spend time in, even though the flights back home suck harder than some starlet trying to make it in the biz.

Yesterday, though, certain things came into perspective for me. I went out to Concord on the BART (Bay Area's subway), and met with my client to discuss specifics on their upcoming implementation. On the way back, I expected that I would have as easy and relaxing a trip back to the city as I had out of it. Not quite.

I bought my BART pass to get on the subway, tried jamming it into the gate a couple times before an agent asked where I was trying to go. "Downtown" I said. "Nope - you have to take the shuttle to Lafayette and catch a connection there - the track is closed." Okay...well, this is interesting. As I was walking to the shuttle, there was this loud-mouthed guy seemingly yelling at the top of his lungs explaining what happened, that he was there, that he knows all there is to know about the subway, and that everyone should listen to him. Okay, I made up that last part.

What happened, you see, is that a BART employee got hit by one of the trains while he was inspecting part of the track. The station agent was on the intercom explaining that it was a "severe medical emergency". Yes, well, I might say so. We arrived at Lafayette, and because there had to be some finagling to get a train up, then back to our next location on the same set of tracks, we waited for 45 minutes.

Eventually, I did get back to the city, but the entire time, I was very calm and understanding. Maybe it's because I knew a man's life was just ended. Maybe it was because I appreciate life more. Or maybe it was because I heard other BART employees on the intercom throughout the morning and realized that one of their co-workers just died. In any particular case, I felt for the organization and the deceased employee's family.

I am also thankful for those in my life that I love and that love me. And, perhaps I'm being a little overly dramatic, or, maybe I just don't say it enough and thought that I should...today.

Memory Walk

I don't know how many readers I have exactly, not that I care much as this is cyberspace, and there are hundreds of things I would rather read than someone's blog I don't know. But, if you do read for the hell of it, thanks.

For those that do know me personally may or may not know that my mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer's early last year at the age of 58. The doctors say that it is a severe case, but we continue doing what we can to keep her life (and ours) as normal as possible.

One thing that I have decided to do, which I didn't think I would in a million years, is to donate my time and money to the Alzheimer Foundation. How will I do this? Well, tomorrow, I am going up to Duluth, MN for the Memory Walk. It's a small walk to support those that have or have had Alzheimer's. It should be pretty special.

I have a website that may explain a bit more about it. Don't feel pressure to donate, but if you do - I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. For those that already have donated...your support means everything to me.

Crack it!

So, this week has been a series of firsts for me. Yesterday, I went to the dentist for the first time since January 2006. Wednesday, I went grocery shopping for the first time in over 18 months. Before that on Wednesday, I went to the chiropractor so she could check things out.

See, I have had consistent discomfort in my lower back and neck for quite some time (over 5 or 6 years now), and I just found out that a friend of mine from college is a chiropractor very close to my house. I am seriously glad I went. She doesn't just feel the back for irregularities, but she uses the Gonstead technique which has proven itself to be much more precise. Wednesday was about getting analyzed and x-rayed, but today, I finally had an adjustment.

First of all, my back is a mess - I'm overcompensating for my hips, lumbar, middle of the back and neck all throughout. So, we started with my lower back and middle of the back first. I told her that I wanted it to get fixed instead of a steady diet of visits over the next 6 months or so. So, she told me that it would be painful the moment that she cracks my back. Au contrare, mon freire...it was just the pressure - no pain whatsoever. She did my lower back, which was first. Then, she put me on this reclining table and lowered me to do my middle back. Ahhhhh....immediate relief there. It felt great. I have already set up another appointment for next Monday morning. Hopefully my out of whack back will realign itself and I can sit through a flight with ease.

Vegas, baby...

This past Labor Day weekend, my girlfriend and I (and several of her friends) went to Vegas to relax and party a bit. One night, we decided to go to Tao. We found out the next day that it is the highest grossing club in America, making $55 million in 2007. I found out why the night before.

Since Julie and Jill (Julie's sister) went to school with the Mood Director at Tao, they decided to give him a call to see if we could get in. They called and he assured us that we would be able to get in. We showed up about 11:00pm, prime time for club-goers, and immediately got in. But, the coolness didn't start there, even with the large throng of partiers around us.

We exchanged pleasantries, and immediately walked past the bouncer, into a private elevator, up to the primary club level. At that level, he raised four fingers to the next bouncer and he then brought us up to Tao Beach, which had a really cool atmosphere. I figured, since you have to go through two bouncers to get there, we were in the most exclusive area, so I didn't want to leave. In the end, we went down to the primary club and walked around a bit and then left. It was very, very cool.

The next day, we went indoor skydiving. It was so much fun, but I have to give it to Jill and Julie because it appeared that they got it right away. Andy (Jill's husband) was next, and I seemed to take my sweet time in getting it as the "teacher" had his hands full with me. Anyway, I would definitely suggest it for anyone that wants to try something new.

And what did we all get for a fun weekend in Vegas? Four pictures.

Men's Eight - Rowing

Well, the US didn't do as well as last Olympics, but St. John's was represented well today. Matt Schnobrich, a former rower who I trained from time-to-time, finished third for the bronze in the elite rowing race of the men's eight.

Random meet-n-greets

As many of you know, as I have traveled to numerous airports, I have also flown/nearly run into (in)famous people (Scottie Pippen, Emmitt Smith, Flip Saunders, Kyle from Real World-Chicago, Robin Williams, etc.).

Today is no exception. Buckle up, because this one is kind of embarrassing to admit that I know.

I was in Memphis, ordering food at a Memphis barbecue place and as I looked directly to my left shoulder, I saw Cohutta from Real World-Sydney. The only reason I know this is because I watched the season because it simply gave and gave, and he was one of the cooler guys, I guess. But, he looks exactly as you would expect, but he has much shorter hair. I may not have thought much of it, but the clincher was that I noticed he had the big tooth necklace still on. He needs to move on, maybe, and I just need to stop watching these shows...

I am a kayaker extraordinaire

Two weekends ago, I, and a couple friends of mine (and friends of theirs) went to northern Michigan (yes - that one...the one that Kid Rock sings about) to hang out, and go tubing.


Andy and I get up there on Friday morning, and we start getting ready to go kayaking. I was geked because I had never been kayaking before, and these were real ones, where you sit in them, not on top of them. We were provided one life vest, one kayak and one paddle. Things are going swimmingly, and I'm having a blast, until an hour into a 2.5 hour ride, I start to bum-rush another kayaker. It's just something that we were doing as we were going along. So, I pass the guy, and head toward a little area that looked as if beavers had created a dam - a lot of downed trees and general muck.

As my luck would have it, I didn't quite understand the physics of my next move and a kayak with a smooth, round underbelly. I was about to run into one of these downed trees, but to try to ward it off, I stuck my paddle up and to the left to catch a branch to push myself away. Well, while I did that, I happened to be leaning down and to the right. My kayak, as physics would dictate, went with my body, and I dumped into the river.

This wouldn't have been so bad, but in my haste to avoid personal injury to this pretty little face you see each day, I lost the handle on my paddle, and away it went down the river. John thought he saw it go into the dam area, so I wasn't too concerned.

After John and I righted my kayak and dumped the water out of it, I was good to go, but without a paddle. But, no worry, right? The paddle is right by...the...dam...? Nope. So, John and Pat look for the paddle in the dam while I've floated around to safety using my arms and hands. Michael Phelps, I am not. I slogged to safety, in reality.

Anyway, John found a stick that was about 4 feet long at most, so I used that for the remaining hour and a half. I dumped several more times after that, and ended up paying $35 for the paddle, but I still had fun. Plus, a lot of the fellow riders said they were impressed by my use of a simple stick. I told them I didn't need no stinking paddle!

Other things happened that weekend, but one thing in particular will stay with me for awhile. We were at a campsite, which a lot of these guys had stayed at for years - nearly 12-15 years. The guy that owned the place had a bulldog named Camo (as in Camoflauge, because he looked like he blended into everything). He was friendly, and craved our attention, but he had a problem. I believe he is a sex addict. He couldn't control himself and masturbated every 10-15 minutes. Lovely. You know what's even more lovely? Seeing his "lipstick unroll"....blech. How about THAT for a visual?

I still hate spiders

For anyone that knows me enough to know my fears and things that annoys me, they know I hate spiders - with a deadly passion. From nearly being attacked by a black widow (okay...I wasn't nearly anything, but it was in my walking path on the way back from a pool once), to...okay, I guess that's the only harrowing event.

Anyway, I was minding my own business, sleeping in a nice, new hotel (not even 2 months old), and I got attacked by a spider on my left leg. There were at least 5-6 bites, and they itch and they are nasty.

To make matters worse, a couple months ago, I read about a box spider (or something) and I read that it's in the south and once it bites you, it's poison deteriorates the skin and muscle and actually eats away at it. So, I was freaking out, naturally.

Nothing has happened with eroding skin and muscle tissue, but still...I hate spiders.

State of Texas v. Todd Lotzer

Last week, my boss was in town showing me the lay of the land so we could ease into Ft. Worth. While she was bringing us around the area where the hotels are, she pointed out a specific area on a frontage road where cops hang out. She then stated to us, "Watch out for that area because cops love to sit there and pull people over like they're directing traffic." (italicized words were added for dramatic effect).

Today, I was driving on said frontage road and got nailed. I crested over the hill and then all of a sudden, I was being ushered into the parking lot where the cop had come from. I haven't been here for a combined 7 days, and I get nailed. Damn. He writes up my ticket, and being kind of an asshole, I asked him what it was for (because I was ticked that he hadn't explained himself as soon as I rolled my window down). He said, "Speeding - you were speeding." Yes, yes I was - 60 in a 40. I had no idea of the speed limit, but no matter. It's the end of the month, Joe-fucking-Blow had to hit his quota and he was hitting it. He didn't even care that I was in a rental, and clearly from out of town.

So, instead of let it sit out there for awhile, I decide to take care of things the same day. I had 10 days to turn in my plea and a check, but knowing that wouldn't be possible with my travel schedule, I went to downtown Ft. Worth over my lunch break and decided to do it there. Apparently Texas has this cool option where, you can choose Guilty with Probation, and if you don't get another speeding ticket over the next 90 days, it never goes against your record. I was happy with this option and I was ready to pay the fine. But, the cashier notified me that I had to go in front of a judge that would "only take a few minutes." As long as it was a couple minutes, I was fine with it.

It was 30 - 45 minutes of waiting. Waiting with some pretty fishy characters. And I heard every one of their rap sheets - several with many priors, several with jail sentences, and several trying to clear up tickets from the mid-90s. What happened to taking care of it right away? Anyway, I got my turn, and I got up there; the judge began going through his lazy script and he pauses, "Todd, you were caught speeding on July 30th....wait - that's today!" He kind of chuckled, and I said yes, I'm guilty and he agreed with my probation arrangement. Done. Quickest one of the degenerates in that room. I then paid.

One of the funnier things that happened though, was that when I first got there and spoke with the cashier, I told her I got a ticket, I'm from Minnesota and "I'm from out of town." She just smiled and said, "I wouldn't say that around these parts." Why? The big bad longhorn's gonna run me down? Well, whatever. One ticket down, hopefully none to come in the next 90 days - at least not in Denton County. For those of you counting, I think that's 3 or 4 in the last year.

And, to the State of Texas: You are welcome for my $217.

This? This is allllll-right....

So, when I arrived into Ft. Worth this past week for the first time for many weeks, I immediately realized something. I realized that I really do like this city, and yes fair readers, I missed it. It's hard to describe to someone that has never been to the Metroplex, but it's always been like that for me.

When I first arrived to the Big D as a 20 year old, I thought it was insanely big. But, now? It's kind of comforting to know that it's that big. It epitomizes the Texan way - if you can't do it big, why bother? I was even, at one time, building a house in North Dallas and was getting excited about it, until certain things fell through and contractors decided to fuck around.

But, overall, the people are nice, the roads are well maintained, the houses are nice and everything just seems....new. And, as many of you know, I love new. I haven't even minded the heat. I don't mind the humidity (which they say is bad down there, but it's similar to Mpls). A lot of people say it's bad, but I still don't mind it. And the heat? It actually wasn't that bad this week, even as it soared above 100 degrees.

What does this post really mean? Or does it need to have a meaning? All I'm really saying is that I don't mind coming down to Dallas/Ft. Worth. And, truthfully, I think I'm going to really enjoy it...